Two Little Boys
by Alydia Rackham
Summary: Based on the song "Two Little Boys." A mishap when Thor and Loki are little parallels dramatic events when they are grown. NO SLASH. Sad.
1. Chapter 1

_This story is dedicated to SunnyZim, without whom the inspiration for it would never have existed. _

_(The beings known as Svartalfar shall, in this story, be interpreted as dark elves, rather than dwarves.)_

_LLLL_

Two Little Boys

_Two little boys_

_Had two little toys_

_Each had a wooden horse._

_Gaily they played_

_Each summer's day_

_Warriors both, of course._

_One little chap_

_Had a mishap_

_Broke off his horse's head_

_Wept for his toy_

_Then cried with joy_

_As his young playmate said…_

LTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Loki let out a wild shriek as he whizzed down the marble hallway, leaning back in the saddle of his wooden horse. The wheels on the horse's hooves rumbled as they spun with blinding speed. Loki leaned forward and kicked off the white floor again with both feet, increasing his momentum as he flashed through the sunlight that poured through a window.

"You'll never catch _meeeeeeeeee!" _Thor, Loki's slightly older, larger brother, crowed from far ahead, his golden hair caught in the light of another window. Thor had his own toy horse, a white one, that also had wheels. And because he was heavier than Loki, he could work his horse up to break-neck speed.

"Yes I _wiiiiiiiiilll!_" Loki shouted, grimacing in frustration as he kicked harder. The two boys raced down the gradually-curving hallway, the wind whipping their hair and clothes. Loki gritted his teeth as he kicked three more times. He knew there was a steeper part coming up, and if he did this just right, he could easily come up neck-and-neck with Thor…

They rounded the corner. Here it was…

Loki kicked once more, very hard, then lifted his feet up, leaned down and pressed himself tight to his horse. His speed instantly doubled.

Within seconds, he flew right up next to Thor. Thor's blonde head whipped around, and he stared at Loki.

"Hey!" he cried indignantly over the roar of the wheels, kicking frantically against the floor. "You're cheating!"

"I am not!" Loki retorted, staying tight. Thor gave him a fierce, angry look.

"You _are!_" he insisted. "No magic!"

"I'm not using magic!" Loki cried. "I'm—"

Thor's head came around—he saw something in front of him. His eyes went wide.

"_Look out!_" he yelped, and slammed his heels down onto the floor.

Loki's gaze whipped around—

To see a row of large, stone flower pots blocking their exit to the courtyard that hadn't been there before.

Loki slammed his heels down too.

The leather of his shoes screamed on the marble.

But his foot caught in the back wheel.

The horse tangled him up. He pitched to the left—

And slammed down onto the top step of a staircase.

Thunderous rattling, banging and crashing drowned him as he clattered down the dozen stone stairs, his horse bashing his head and chest, splinters flying. His vision swam and blurred. Pain snapped through every limb.

He thudded onto the lower landing, the back of his skull hitting the floor with a crack. His eyes went dark. He couldn't breathe. For a moment, everything spun in shadow, completely silent.

Then, he began to feel someone shaking him—shaking his shoulders. A distant, slurred voice echoed through his head.

He sucked in a breath.

It hurt. A lot.

He sucked in another one—then began to gasp in short, rapid bursts, as pain darted around inside his chest and panic rose in his throat. He forced his eyes open, but they wouldn't focus.

"Loki?" the voice sharpened—enough so he could understand his name. "Loki? _Loki?"_

He blinked hard—

And finally could see Thor bending over him, felt him grabbing his shoulders, his bright blue eyes wide, his freckled face pale, his hair hanging wild. Thor blinked.

"Are you all right?" he demanded.

Loki dragged himself into a sitting position—but _everything _throbbed and hurt. His back, his head, his arms, his chest, his legs…

And then he saw his new horse, broken in several pieces beside him, splinters and bits lying everywhere.

He choked in his throat, and tears welled up in his eyes and spilled. He shakily scrabbled for Thor, grabbed him and pressed his face into his brother's scarlet-clad chest and let out a wail. Thor clumsily wrapped him up in his arms and patted him on the head.

"It's all right," Thor said, pulling him tighter. "It's all right. You're all right."

Loki could tell, though, that it was not all right. Thor was shaking as badly as he was.

But then, Thor took a deep breath. He was very strong—a lot stronger than Loki—and he suddenly clenched his little brother to him so tight that neither of them could shake.

Loki's breathing steadied. His sobbing calmed, and his tears trailed down his face instead of streaming. He relaxed his death grip on Thor's tunic, and finally could pull back away from him. Thor let him go.

"I…I broke my horse!" Loki shuddered, wiping his eyes with the back of his black sleeves, his lower lip trembling.

Thor sat back and glanced over at the shattered toy, the pieces of which littered the stones.

"Yeah," he sighed, frowning at it. "You fell hard."

A new swell of tears threatened to overtake Loki.

"I just got it _yesterday!" _he cried. Thor looked at him.

"You can ride mine," he said. Loki blinked, then wiped at his face again.

"Really?"

"Yes," Thor nodded decisively. "It's really big enough for both of us—and we can take turns with the reins." He canted his head. "All right?"

Loki nodded hard, sniffing.

"All right." He wiped his eyes one more time, then peered at his brother. "Are you hurt too?"

Thor looked at him, confused.

"No."

"Then why are _you_ crying?" Loki asked, trying to straighten his legs out. Thor jerked back from him, then wiped the glittering tears from his own cheeks with his sleeve.

"I'm not," Thor snapped. Loki, perplexed, just watched him. Thor scrambled to his feet, then looked down at him.

"Can you get up?"

Loki considered a moment, then nodded hesitantly.

"I…think so…"

Thor held out his calloused hand.

Loki glanced up at him, then reached up and grabbed it. Thor heaved him to his feet, and then helped him back up the stairs. As they reached the top, Thor snorted in disgust.

"That's the stupidest place to put those plants," he declared. "I'm going to tell Mumma to move them."

Loki glanced up at his big brother, and, despite his pain, he smiled.

"_Did you think I would leave you crying,_

_When there's room on my horse for two?_

_Climb up here, Jack, and don't be crying_

_I can go just as fast with two!_

_When we grow up, we'll both be soldiers,_

_And our horses will not be toys._

_And I wonder if we'll remember_

_When we were two little boys…"_

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLT

_Long years passed_

_War came so fast_

_Bravely they marched away_

_Cannon roared loud_

_And in the mad crowd_

_Wounded and dying lay_

_Up goes a shout_

_A horse dashes out_

_Out from the ranks so blue_

_Gallops away_

_To where Joe lay_

_Then came a voice Joe knew…_

LTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Thor let out a bellowing roar and hurled Mjollnir as hard as he could. Thunder rolled past him, splitting the air, cold wind rushing all through his hair and cape. The hammer, like a shaft of lightning, slammed straight through the ranks of the Svartalfar—elves with pitch-black skin, long blue hair and eyes like white fire—and sent them careening and flying. Mjollnir raced back to Thor and slapped into his right palm. Thor spun and surveyed the scene.

Deep gray clouds roiled overhead, flashing with blue lightning. All around him on the uneven, volcanic Svartaheim landscape of glinting obsidian, the flashing, gleaming soldiers of the Aesir screamed and slashed and hacked and fenced, even as hundreds of Svartalfar darted round and round them, their short knives flaying open chests and backs, their glowing arrows slicing the air and shafting through armor and bone. The Aesir's horses clattered through the ranks, whinnying and screeching, as they fought their panic to obey their masters.

Fear flickered through Thor's heart. He could not see his father, or his brother.

A flash came from his left. He whirled.

A tall, lithe elf, a long sword held lightly in his left hand, suddenly stood before him. He wore long, draping clothes that moved with every breath of wind, like a shroud of cobweb. He cocked his head, and his white eyes pierced through Thor's heart.

The elf smiled.

He leaped at Thor.

Thor brought up his hammer. The elfin sword clashed against it.

Thunder boomed.

Thor spun back, and the elf pursued—slashing and lunging at him with wicked speed. Thor fought to keep his footing on this terrain—for the stones were so sharp they were like knives themselves, and block all the elf's strikes with Mjollnir.

The sword glanced off Thor's shoulder. He sidestepped, then brought his hammer down on the elf's skull.

It crushed it.

The elf collapsed like a dead weight.

Thor sensed another presence.

Panting, he turned.

And a white arrow went straight through him.

He stiffened, then staggered backward, his left hand flying up to the right part of his upper chest. His fingers blundered into the burning-hot shaft that stuck out of his armor.

His legs gave way.

He crashed to the ground. The shaft, whose head had gone all the way through him, rattled, and the wood of it sang.

His right arm went limp—he couldn't feel it. Mjollnir slipped out of his grasp.

He choked. His throat and tongue felt thick. His heartbeat raced, and his left foot kicked out. He swallowed hard once, then again. His wildly searching eyes saw only the swirling sky. Then, his vision clouded, and went black.

LTL

Dull sounds, dull impressions, dull shadows, pulled on Thor's consciousness. Something grabbed his shoulders. Something shook him.

Then—

His eyes flew open and he let out a rending scream—

As the arrow yanked free of his body, sending blood spilling from his chest.

"_Silence!" _the command lashed through the air, and a freezing-cold hand slapped down over his mouth. Thor thudded back onto the ground, grunting over and over in unfathomable pain, biting down hard as tingles and needling agony raced through his whole body.

Another freezing hand pressed down over his wound—it felt like someone had poured ice-water into his veins. He blinked hard, several times, trying to see who it was that held him down.

And at last he did—well enough to recognize him.

An armor-clad young man, lean and hard, pressed his right hand over Thor's mouth and his left over Thor's gushing wound. He had a white, angular face, and his black hair hung around his brow and eyes. His emerald eyes stared down at his left hand, his mouth hard.

He moved his right hand from Thor's mouth and rested it on Thor's breastplate, still focused on the arrow wound.

"Loki," Thor rasped.

"Shush," Loki said shortly, not moving. Thor began shivering uncontrollably, and could only give a cursory glance around him. It was dark—and he sensed a large, living presence standing quietly behind Loki.

"Who…Who is there?" Thor asked.

"Einar," Loki said under his breath. "Without a saddle."

Thor then heard the soft whuffling of a horse behind his little brother. Thor swallowed.

"What happened?"

"We retreated, moved the ranks," Loki murmured, his brow tightening in concentration as his fingers probed deeper into Thor's wound. "Then I realized you weren't with us."

"Are we—"

"Behind the lines?" Loki lifted an eyebrow. "You could say that."

Thor screwed his eyes shut and gulped back a wail as he almost swore that Loki's fingers touched a raw nerve.

A blinding flash of light issued.

Thor jerked.

Loki, gasping, sat back and glanced down at his blood-covered hands. He met his brother's eyes.

"That ought to hold you for now." He got up. "Come on."

Thor, his muscles like liquid, could barely lift himself enough to grab Loki's hand with his left. Loki pulled him to his feet, then clicked softly to Einar. The horse—a tall, serious, dark-eyed bay steed—stepped out of the shadows, his hooves clacking on the rock. He glanced at Loki, his ears flicked, and then he knelt down.

Loki, not letting go of Thor, swung his leg over Einar's back and scooted up. Thor stumbled forward, and managed to straddle the horse and sit behind his brother.

Einar got up. Thor numbly wrapped his arms around Loki's waist.

"Mjollnir…" he tried.

"I have it," Loki assured him. "Hang on." And he urged Einar forward.

Cold night wind blew through Thor's hair, chilling his sweaty brow, as Einar broke into a trot. Thor swallowed repeatedly, trying to keep himself from getting sick. His head drifted forward until he leaned his forehead against the back of Loki's hard metal collar.

The horse trotted smoothly, quietly, through a low valley. Then, the valley opened up to a rocky field.

Thor felt Loki stiffen.

"And here it will get interesting..." Loki whispered.

Thor squinted. And then his heart thudded.

Directly ahead of them stood the hundreds of low tents of the Svartalfar encampment.

"Loki…" Thor murmured.

"Sh," Loki said again. Then, he lifted his bloody left hand and held it out, palm up. He rubbed his fingers together swiftly, and Thor saw sparks flash between his fingertips.

And then…

A soft, blanket-like warmth draped over Thor, Loki, and the horse. And Einar's hooves went silent. So did Thor's breathing.

"They cannot hear us or see us," Loki told him, and his voice sounded very far away. "Unless we move suddenly."

Thor gripped his brother tighter and leaned his head down. He felt as if any moment he might lose consciousness—and his falling off the horse would most certainly be a sudden movement.

In a matter of moments, they neared the border of the encampment—and then they passed into it. Einar strode within inches of tent stakes and cloth walls and watch fires. Thor shivered uncontrollably, now—though it had nothing to do with his fear and everything to do with is wound—his wound, which he felt bleeding again. The hot blood ran down the skin of his chest and back, soaking his undertunic, making it stick to the underneath of his armor.

Loki gingerly guided Einar between the maze of tents, hardly breathing. And, after an endless amount of time, they crossed by the last tent and left the pale glow of the Svartalfar camp behind.

Loki reached down and took hold of Thor's wrist. Hard. And then he clicked to Einar.

The horse broke into a flying gallop. Thor lurched, but Loki held him fast. They raced over the black earth, through the night—and to Thor, it seemed their passage took place in the blind, for he could see nothing ahead of them.

The breathless, headlong rush did not last long, however—Einar slowed down to a canter, then a trot, then a walk…

And Thor caught a glimpse of the soft, glowing tents of the Aesir.

Loki drew Einar up next to the healing tent and halted him, then slid easily off to the ground. Instantly, he turned around and took hold of Thor's arm and leg.

Thor leaned toward him, managing to pull his left leg up and over Einar's back, until he could slip to the ground. His feet hit the dirt, and Loki caught most of his weight. Thor grunted, wincing, and his shoulders tightened.

"Eir," Loki called, turning toward the tent. "I have a new charge for you."

Eir, her flaming red hair bound up, her slight form clad in battle clothes, pushed through the tent flap. Her eyes went wide.

"Thor!" she cried. "You're alive!"

"Barely," Thor muttered, feeling cold.

"Take care of him," Loki urged, as she took hold of Thor's arm. Thor started toward the tent, then turned back and peered at Loki.

"Are _you _hurt?"

Loki blinked, then reached up with his right hand and swiped at his eyes, then drew in an unsteady breath and cleared his throat.

"No," he shook his head, though Thor could see his eyes shining.

Thor paused, then nodded once to him.

Loki halfway smiled, and nodded back. And as Thor ducked into the tent, he heard his brother heave a deep, long sigh of relief.

"_Did you think I would leave you dying_

_When there's room on my horse for two?_

_Climb up here, Joe, we'll soon be flying_

_Back to the ranks so blue!_

_Can you feel, Joe, I'm all atremble_

_Perhaps it's the battle's noise._

_But I think it's that I remember_

_When we were two little boys…"_

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

_For this section, I listened to "Gandalf's Fall" from the Lord of the Rings soundtrack._

TWO

"_Can you feel, Joe, I'm all atremble_

_Perhaps it's the battle's noise._

_But I think it's that I remember_

_When we were two little boys…"_

Smoke rolled through the streets and swallowed the towering metal buildings that stood like vast trees upon this island the Midgardians called "Manhattan." The vehicle traffic had halted, and the people had fled, leaving the roads and alleys abandoned. In the distance, sirens wailed, resounding through the quiet. Fire crackled and sputtered inside windows, buses, and the shattered hulks of alien ships that lay strewn across the cement.

Thor hauled himself up to the flat roof of a building using one hand—he grasped Mjollnir in his other sweaty palm. Grunting, he got to his feet and strode across the gravelly roof, his boots crunching as he fought against the trembling weariness in all his limbs. He swiped the back of his free hand across his dirty forehead, and scrubbed his long hair away from his face. He lifted his chin as his eyes met those of Tony Stark, standing bedraggled and battered in half of his remaining Iron Man suit. Black marks scored the shining surface of his armor, and a burn marked his cheekbone. His bright, dark eyes flickered for a moment as he caught sight of Thor, and he answered the nod.

"It got quiet," Thor said hoarsely, coming up to stand next to Tony and gaze out across the destruction far below.

"Yeah," Tony sighed, squinting upward, then out across a street Thor had been told was named "Wall."

"It's a mess," Tony declared.

"Where is everyone?" Thor wondered, as a limp wind caught his torn cloak and ruffled its edge.

"Cap is down helping a group of people get out of a collapsed building," Tony answered. "Hawk and Widow are in Central Park, chasing down some stragglers. I had to come up here out of the action because my arc started acting up." Tony reached up and tapped his chestplate with his fingertips. "But it turns out that was best anyway—otherwise I would have been taken out too when they knocked down the building."

Thor shot him a look and frowned.

"What?"

Tony glanced up at him and lifted an eyebrow.

"Where were _you_?"

"Over the bay," Thor nodded toward the water. "Bringing down a ship. I didn't hear about—what building? Why?"

"They took him out," Tony said, turning toward him and gesturing to illustrate. "Found out where he was hiding and just wiped out the building."

Thor's heart thudded hard. Tony shrugged one shoulder and looked over the city again. "I don't care what that guy's made of—he won't survive a whole building falling down on top of him."

Thor tried to speak—he only swallowed convulsively three times as his whole body went cold and his vision flickered.

"Which building?" he finally managed through his teeth.

"That one," Tony pointed. "See that big column of smoke and dust—right there? I guess Fury's chopper is circling it. As soon as the debris clears, we're gonna go down and make sure he's dead."

Tony hadn't even finished before Thor stepped forward, jumped up on the ledge and leaped off the building.

"Thor!" Tony yelped, but Thor barely heard him. He whirled Mjollnir in front of him, and it carried him like a blast of wind through the maze of buildings and scattered ruin. He made straight for the black pillar of smoke Tony had shown him, his thoughts stalled, his heart hammering.

The smoke engulfed him. He slowed to hovering, then lowered himself to the ground. He stumbled when he landed, and his shaking hand recaptured Mjollnir's handle. He frowned hard, trying to see through the thick, gray dust that hung in the air like fog.

Here and there, dim fires fluttered and hissed. Beams of hot metal leaned and sagged, looking like the ribs of a long-fallen dragon. He stepped forward. Glass and thin, brittle steel crunched and cracked beneath his feet. All was silent.

"Loki!" he called. His voice rang in his own ears, and battered against the quiet. Steam rose from pockets of heat near him as he passed, his eyes searching the dimness. His heart thundered, and his mind whirled.

He had been fighting his brother—all of them had—for a great, long while now. Thor and his new allies, the Avengers, had mounted a resistance against Loki's wild attack on Midgard, doing everything possible to stop his reckless and relentless play for domination. The few times Thor had actually laid eyes on his brother, he had scarcely recognized him. Loki was scarred from his headlong crash into the deserts of Midgard after he fell from the Asbru bridge. His raven hair had grown long and untamed, and he had carried himself with such devilish abandon, spoken with such careless violence, Thor could only be shocked, and could offer no words in his defense when questioned by Fury or the others.

Full-on battle had broken out. The world had halted while it raged. And chaos had torn through the streets, separating the Avengers team, and leaving them all to their own devices of survival.

So Thor had not been there when…

"Loki!" he called again, his voice breaking—the dust tried to smother him. He coughed, and kicked aside a piece of wreckage. "Loki? _Loki!"_

He heard a sound. A sound like gulping, or choking. Or sobbing.

He froze, straining his senses.

Then, far off to his left, he saw a long, black form, a snow-white face, and pale, limp hands.

Thor flew to him. He dashed over the ruination, his feet pounding as he kicked up ash and soot. He skidded to a halt.

It was Loki.

His torn hair lay in an ebony halo beneath his head and across his white brow, his leather and metal clothes were scarred and ripped, its edges burnt. His emerald eyes stared straight up at the bluish-black cloud of smoke that reeled upward into the sky. His hands lay across his chest—his left hand trembled. And from the middle of his stomach down, he was pinned beneath a vast slab of cement.

Thor dropped Mjollnir.

It clanged like lead and thudded onto its side.

Loki twitched, and his throat spasmed. His eyes rolled, and then his head slowly turned toward Thor.

His colorless lips moved. He choked again, and took in a rasping breath. And his vibrant green eyes focused on his brother's…

And tears spilled out and ran down his temples.

"Thor," he whispered.

Thor crashed to his knees beside him. For a moment, his shuddering hands couldn't comprehend what to do. Then, he reached out and grabbed his brother's hands hard. They felt like ice.

"Loki!" Thor cried, his eyes burning. He felt Loki take a shivering breath. Tears tumbled down Thor's cheeks and dripped from his beard.

"Ha. Look at you," Loki rasped. "The mighty Thor…"

Thor blinked, gasping—to see Loki smiling faintly up at him. There was blood on his lips.

Thor scrabbled closer to him, his knees scraping against the rocks and shards of metal. He squeezed his hands harder.

"I'm going to get this blasted rock off of you," Thor promised, trying to make his voice stop shaking.

"I wish you wouldn't," Loki murmured, blinking slowly, his long eyelashes fluttering. Thor's heart jolted.

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because it's too late," Loki answered, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, his brow tightening. "And…you would…just be wasting time."

Thor swallowed hard—it felt like he was swallowing poison.

"It's not a waste, Loki—"

Loki's hands moved beneath Thor's—they squeezed his back. Thor stopped speaking, his brow twisting hard. Loki opened his eyes and searched Thor's face—as if trying to focus—or as if he was looking for something.

"I thought…I thought you'd…" Loki tried. "I thought you'd be happy."

Thor twitched.

"Happy?" he repeated, bewildered. And then a knife of realization went straight through him. "Happy to find you lying here like this?" he roared. "Happy that I came here too late?"

Loki laughed—the broken sound tore through Thor's soul. Loki found his eyes again with his own, and blinked. More tears, like ice water, trailed down Loki's face.

"Well," Loki breathed. "My mistake."

Tears blinded Thor. But he didn't dare take his hands away from his brother's, even to clear his vision.

Loki's trembling hand shifted. He pulled free of Thor's grasp and reached up toward Thor's face—Thor bent closer so he could reach. Loki's fingers found Thor's beard, and twisted through it, and held on.

"You know what I just thought of?" Loki murmured. Thor's face twisted, and he sucked in a desperate breath as pain began traveling through his chest.

"What?" he managed. Loki swallowed.

"Remember when we…Father gave us those wooden horses," he whispered. "And I crashed and fell down the stairs?"

Thor's splintered smile hurt. He nodded once.

"I do," he answered.

A jerk traveled through Loki's frame. Terror shot through Thor's. Loki's hand tightened on Thor's hand and his beard. His eyes shifted, and stared at something far off. His eyes went wide.

"_Thor," _he breathed.

"I am here," Thor assured him, taking hold of his shoulders. "I'm here, brother, I'm here—"

Loki choked in his throat, and more tears—heavy, hot tears—welled up in his eyes and spilled. He shakily scrabbled for Thor—his weak hands fumbled against his breastplate.

Thor instantly reached down, though his whole body shook, and wrapped his strong arms around Loki's shoulders and lifted him up.

With all his remaining strength, Loki grabbed Thor and pressed his face into his brother's chest. Thor clumsily wrapped him up in his arms, and laid the side of his head against Loki's.

"It's all right," Thor said, pulling him tighter. "It's all right. You're all right."

But it was not all right. Loki's weak arms encircled Thor's waist, and Thor bent painfully so he could keep hold of his brother's broken form. He felt Loki's struggle to breathe, the flutter of his hands, the iciness of his brow. Thor reached up and took a fistful of Loki's long, wolfish hair, as the panic in Loki's form rose and the strength left it.

"It's all right," Thor insisted, his tears scalding his cheeks. "It's all right."

Finally, Loki's shuddering calmed. He took three deep breaths. He pressed his cold forehead against Thor's throat.

"Is it?" Loki breathed. Thor nodded so Loki could feel it.

"Yes," Thor insisted.

Loki sighed. It was a deep, weighty, labored sound.

And then he went still.

Thor sucked in a sharp breath. It shredded his lungs. He sat there for a moment, frozen, Loki's motionless form in his arms.

Thor pulled back, and gazed down at his brother's face.

Loki's vibrant eyes were closed. A single tear trailed down his right cheek. His forehead was smooth, and his mouth formed a soft half smile.

Thor lay him back down, letting him slip out of his grasp and rest against the hard ground. He was utterly still—like a statue on a tomb.

He folded Loki's hands on his chest, then leaned down and pressed his forehead to those cold fingers, and sobbed.

They found him there, hours later—Tony and Cap. They called his name—he didn't answer. And when they saw him, they halted, and fell silent.

And finally, when Tony said something, Thor expected the words—but he didn't expect the gentleness with which they were spoken.

"He's dead?"

Thor rose up from his brother's body with a deep groan of anguish, and blinkingly searched the heavens. Then he bowed his head, hiding his face. He heard Cap come close up behind him, and felt him rest a gloved hand on the top of his head.

"This is my fault," Thor gritted, tears still flowing.

"No it isn't," Cap answered quietly. "Sometimes…stuff just happens."

Thor glanced up at the other two men—and saw in their eyes that moment that they knew what he felt. They understood.

Thor could not speak.

Tony drew in a deep breath, and raised his arm. A wrist communicator flipped open. Tony kept his eyes on Thor, then gazed down at Loki's quiet body.

"Nick? You hit him. He's gone."

Thor closed his eyes. His head buzzed. He couldn't hear every word of the conversation—he just understood that Tony was telling Fury what happened.

"Yeah," Tony's voice came back into clarity. "Now we need you to get down here and help us get this hunk of cement off of him."

"Wait, what?" Fury answered, his voice crackling over the communicator.

"Just what I said," Tony answered. "Where's Banner—maybe he can help."

"Wait—let me try to understand this," Fury shot back. "You want us to aid in the recovery of the body of the _enemy_ before we try to clean up all the rest of this mess?"

"He's not the enemy, okay?" Tony answered, with far more force than necessary. He paused, and glanced at Thor and Cap. "He's Thor's little brother."

A long pause followed, and Thor wondered if the communication device had cut out.

But finally, Fury spoke—and his voice was quieter.

"Okay. We'll be right there."

Thor closed his eyes. Cap kept his hand where it was. Tony stepped closer. And Thor entwined his fingers with Loki's, and whispered:

"It's all right. I'm here. It's all right…"

As the smoke billowed higher, the silence filled the air, and Thor's baby brother lay still and white and peaceful, as if his big brother's calming words had lulled him to sleep.

FIN

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